


Easy but in a hard way

by siriusissues



Category: DCU
Genre: Angst, M/M, cause it's so angsty, i honestly don't know what to tag other than angst, seriously a lot of ANGST, the tim/jason is kind of in the background, this story doesn't focus on them that much, ur welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 11:35:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7572628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriusissues/pseuds/siriusissues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick's life has never been about things being easy and no matter how badly he wants to, he cannot stop running away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Easy but in a hard way

**Author's Note:**

> hello ok keep in mind that the last time i was an active member in the dc fandom was years ago and i'm honestly just pulling shit from the back of my mind
> 
> although i'm not sorry if the characters are a bit ooc lmaooooo
> 
> not proof read or beta read or any of that shit alright i wrote this instead of sleeping
> 
> it also has some major time jumps, just letting u know
> 
> ur welcome

It was never easy, this thing between them. It was never easy to sneak out every night in skin tight suits and domino masks. It was never easy to put on a smile for the press in expensive clothes and cast longing glances at each other from across the room. It was never easy to fall in love, without having your parents by your side. It was never easy to get secretly engaged and sitting by your mother and father's grave until dawn, while your now fiancé is out on patrol, and wishing so deeply that they could see you get married to the love of your life. It was never easy to come back home to your injured future husband and having to patch him up and throw away blood stained sheets and pretend that nothing ever happened. It was never easy to pick up the pieces after Nightwing when you were Dick Grayson again.  
  
But the thing is, Dick's life has never been about things being easy.  
  
_ _ _  
  
Just when the sun is starting to shine through the curtains and the chirping from the birds outside can be heard, Dick knows that it's past nine in the morning and he should probably get up. It's a Sunday morning. It's a lazy day. He smiles tiredly to himself as he rolls over, forcing himself to pry is eyes open and face the day. Words cannot describe how badly he wishes that he could wake up to the sight before him everyday.  
  
"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," a raspy voice greets him softly.  
  
Dick snorts and has to resist closing his eyes again as a hand makes contact with his face, calloused fingers stroking his black hair away from his forehead.  
  
"For how long were you watching me sleep?" He asks through a yawn as he snuggles into the warm palm resting against his cheek. He pretends he doesn't see the smug grin on his fiancé's face.  
  
"Well," said fiancé answers. He drags out the word more than necessary. "Long enough to know that you make this thing in your sleep were you roll over onto your belly and hugs your pillow really tight, all while scrunching up your face and muttering something about snuggles."  
  
Dick rolls his eyes and wonders for a brief moment if it's possible to kiss a cocky smile off of someone's face, but quickly decides that if said someone is completely in love with you, it'd probably only make them smile even more. That thought is dismissed for now.  
  
"Shut up," he whines. The two men both know there's no real heat behind his words. "You already knew that, you arrow throwing asshat."  
  
At that, the redhead raises an eyebrow and runs his fingers through his lover's hair, watching the acrobat melt like ice under his touch. Ice seems like a word that suits his husband-to-be really well. Dick has always been a lot like ice. Cold, distant, but falls apart under just the tiniest bit of heat.  
  
Yeah, Dick has always been ice, and his fiancé has always been fire, and they've always known that someday they'll be the destruction of each other. But that's okay. Something will always be the destruction of every living being. Dick's something just happens to be a _someone_ , instead.  
  
"Is that supposed to be an insult?" Dick is brought back to reality again as the other man speaks. This time it's his turn to smirk.  
  
" _Obviously_ ," he answers. He reaches up to catch the hand now resting on his forehead with his own, tangling their fingers together and giving it a loving squeeze. "I hope you didn't take it well."  
  
The redhead gasps dramatically, acting like he's actually offended. Dick hides a grin in his light blue pillow.  
  
" _Richard Grayson_!" It's fake, it's full of joy, and Dick is once again reminded of how much of a dork his fiancé is. "God, you'll be the death of me."  
  
There's a heavy truth behind Roy's words. Neither of them mention it nor point it out. They never do. It's just easier to pretend that it's not there. It's just easier to shake his head and smile and mutter, "That's Grayson-Harper to you, beloved."  
  
And it's just easier for Roy to run the pad of his thumb over the back of Dick's hand and squeeze it so the cold silver of Dick's engagement ring sends a shiver up his spine when it brushes against his hot skin.  
  
"Not Harper," he whispers, quietly so only Dick will hear and not the rest of the world. "Not yet."  
  
"No, not yet," the black haired man tells Roy and it's sweet, almost like a promise. Dick has never been good at keeping promises. "But in a few months." Maybe.  
  
_Hopefully_.  
  
_ _ _  
  
He's sitting on the livingroom floor and there's a mess all around him. It's not news, exactly, that wherever Dick goes, wherever Grayson sets his foot down, there'll be a mess. He will either bring one with him or create one before leaving. The people closest to him has grown used to it by now.  
  
What kind of mess it is depends on if it's raining inside his head or if he can actually think clearly for once. Sometimes, the mess is just some dirty laundry laying around or an unmade bed or the petals of a dying flower falling to the floor when he's forgotten that he brought in some flowers from the manor gardens.  
  
But sometimes, when he wakes up and there's a storm taking place in his head, the laundry and the messy bed sheets and the dead flower petals aren't that much of a mess anymore. This time, the mess is him. This mess leaves no traces, but it leaves the people in the room with him silently glancing at each other as they ask him, one more time than usual, how his day was and if he'd like something to eat. He never answers.  
  
Today, he's not the mess. Today, the mess is old photographs and boxes of forgotten items scattered all around the livingroom.  
  
He blinks once, twice, as he reaches out for a photo laying a bit to his right. There's a man and a woman in it. As he picks it up, he runs his fingers over the woman's face, barely touching, just brushing, almost ghosting, like she's fragile and might break if he's not careful. The woman in the picture was never fragile, though. She was strong and powerful and could carry the whole universe on her shoulders without breaking a sweat.  
  
Not fragile, never weak. She wasn't made of glass or porcelain even if her beautiful appearance made her look like a doll as she flew through the air in the circus tent like she was born to do just that. Just strong, always caring.  
  
Not fragile.  
  
Never weak.  
  
" _It's okay to be weak sometimes_ ," he remembers her whispering as she tucked him into bed one night and wiped the tears away from his puffy face.  
  
It's okay to be weak sometimes.  
  
It's okay.  
  
But she wasn't. She was never weak.  
  
She broke anyway.  
  
She broke like glass shattering in heat as her wings betrayed her and she fell to the ground. Her husband fell with her. Her breaking point came so suddenly, but she died strong. Died happy. Died doing the thing she was born to do.  
  
He remembers how, when he was very little and they were watching his father practice backflip after backflip after blackflip, he had told her, " _One day, mom, one day I'm gonna learn how to fly just like you and dad and I'm gonna fly to the moon every night and bring back all the stars for you, mom, I promise_."  
  
She had smiled at him, blinding like the sun and always making him feel safe, as she knelt down and put her hands on his shoulders. " _You don't have to do that, baby, not for me_ ," she had told him and for a split second he swore he could see a tear glowing in her sky blue eyes. " _You're the only star I'll ever need, ever want_."  
  
He puts the photograph away and closes his eyes. There's an old teddy bear in his lap, the very first one he had been given. He curls his trembling fingers around it and gives it a squeeze. His black hair falls into his face as he bends his head down, looking at the worn out toy. A tear lands on one of its paws, quickly drying. Then another tear and another tear and he has to bite back a sob.  
  
He can hear someone walk into the room, humming softly until said person stops dead in his tracks. He can tell Roy has seen him now. Knows excatly what he's gonna ask him.  
  
"Love, are you okay?" And there it is, the question he's been waiting for. He can hear the concern in Roy's voice. He sniffs quietly, can smell the coffee his fiancé brought with him. He doesn't even want to know how much of it he drinks in one day.  
  
"Yeah," he answers. It's hoarse and unconvincing and his voice cracks. He clears his throat. "I'm fine. Just a bit…" _Afraid_. _Helpless_. _Lonely_. "Just a bit tired, that's all."  
  
_It's okay to be weak sometimes_.  
  
_ _ _  
  
"Dance with me."  
  
Roy looks up from his phone to stare at Dick like he's out of his mind. "What?" He asks when Dick doesn't seem to be joking.  
  
The dark haired man smiles, all bright and happy and Roy falls for it every time. Falls in love with Dick like they're seventeen all over again, blushing shyly when grabbing for each other's hands and soft kisses in the back of Roy's car that belonged on a junkyard and not on the road.  
  
"Again, _what_?"  
  
Dick's smile turns into a smirk and the bastard actually looks smug, like it's a victory that he was able to catch Roy off guard. He slowly moves towards the couch until he's leaning over his lover where he's laying on his back, head on the armrest and phone slipping from his hands, falling to his chest and making him whimper and pout. Dick laughs. Roy can't help but smile.  
  
" _Please_ , baby," Dick says softly as he tilts his head to the side. He lifts his hand to brush his fingers along Roy's bare arm, lingering, burning hot like a phantom touch. Teasing, trapping Roy in an invisible grasp. Ice on fire that burns so bright. Roy didn't know it was possible for fire to melt under the touch of ice. Dick always has him wrapped around his finger. Grayson's heart is a cage and Harper doesn't mind that he's not free to fly away, not really. Doesn't want to. Knows Dick is trapped in his heart, too.  
  
But the difference between Roy and Dick, is that Dick actually knows how to fly. Maybe it hurts more to have your freedom taken away when you've tasted the sky.  
  
Roy sighs, pretending to be annoyed even though he knows Dick sees right through it. He rolls his eyes anyway, just to prove a point. Just so Dick knows that he's only doing this to make him happy. It's always to make Dick happy. Always.  
  
"Fine," he mutters but doesn't bother to hide his smile as Dick pretty much jumps up and down on the spot in excitement.  
  
"Thank you, thank you thank you, I love you!" Dick says through a face splitting grin, talking so fast he almost gets the words mixed up. He tends to do that when he's happy. Or at least when the sun manages to shine through the painful storm always surrounding him.  
  
He grabs Roy's hands, pulling him off of the couch and almost making the both of them trip and turn into a pile of giggles on the floor. They don't, but it was close, Dick will admit that.  
  
"I can't dance, though," Roy mumbles as Dick guides his hands to his waist. Roy is usually confident, never insecure, always so good at hiding it. This time he doesn't even try to. The smile Dick gives him then is enough to wash away his thoughts for the moment.  
  
"You'll do great, love, I promise," Dick hums as he reaches up to slip his arms around Roy's neck. Roy trusts him. Doesn't argue. Just nods. "Just follow me."  
  
_I always am. I'm always following you. Always chasing you, over the rooftops, down the streets, around the flat. Always wishing you'd just hold up for a second and let me have you, for real. I'm yours. Always have been. Will you ever be truly mine_?  
  
He keeps quiet, locking eyes with Dick and almost suffocates. The music is filling the room, The Ronettes singing Be My Baby, the time stopping but is also going faster and faster and faster and Roy fears this moment will be over too soon. He doesn't say anything.  
  
Together they sway around the room like a magic bubble is surrounding them. Roy's breath hitches and there's something in Dick's eyes that he's never dared to notice before. Right there, under the surface, like he can touch it if he just--  
  
Dick presses closer, his breath hitting Roy's lips. "See?" He whispers into the small space between them. "You're actually really good at dancing."  
  
Roy rolls his eyes again, despite the smile painting his face. He moves his hands slowly over Dick's waist, feeling the muscles move under his shirt as the pair swirl around the never ending livingroom.  
  
"Shut up or I'll marry you," Roy mutters as he leans his forehead against Dick's. It's supposed to be funny. It's not supposed to sound hopeful. Roy succeeds at that.  
  
"Is that a threat or a proposal?" Dick then whispers and his eyes are burning again with that look Roy couldn't quite put a name on.  
  
It's the look he's only seen once before, when he first had kissed Dick and hoped the other man wouldn't kill him for doing so. It's the look that says, _I'm yours_ , _I'm yours_ , _I'm yours_ , _never let me go_.  
  
_I won't_.  
  
"It's whatever the hell you want it to be, _Grayson_ ," he breathes out softly as Dick's lips make contact with his jaw, biting playfully, gently, brushing before smiling against the smooth skin.  
  
"Better buy me a ring then, _Harper_."  
  
_ _ _  
  
This was a thing Dick did unknowingly. _This_ being slipping away from everyone else for hours without uttering a word, without letting anyone know where he might be. He couldn't help it even if he tried. Sometimes, more and more often, parts of him crave being alone. Parts of him need space to breathe, to think, to _just be_. He doesn't mean to, not really.  
  
It's just like how Jason doesn't mean to light another cigarette but does it anyway. It's just like when Tim stays up for hours in front of his computer instead of going to sleep because there's always a voice whispering to him that he shouldn't, so he doesn't. It's just like how Bruce shuts himself off and keeps everything inside when something goes wrong instead of talking to someone, instead of taking the burden off of his shoulders. It's all the same. It's all just something they cannot control so it controls them instead.  
  
"There you are," Roy's voice says. It fails to startle Dick. Not like Roy tried to, anyway. "I've been looking for you for a while now."  
  
Dick doesn't turn around. He just closes his eyes and lets the chilly wind mess his hair up. "I figured you would," he tells Roy at the last second.  
  
The red haired man moves to sit down next to his husband on the edge of the roof. The silence is eating Roy alive, never before has he been struggling to find something to talk to Dick about. He then realizes that maybe this is a moment where nothing has to be said, just the presence of one another matters. He finds very little comfort in it.  
  
"Let's have a baby," Dick says out of the blue. It's so sudden, so strange and so _Dick_. Roy almost falls off the building in pure shock.  
  
"Are you- Fuck, Dick, _what_?" Roy is grasping for words, opening and closing his mouth and staring at Dick with eyes so wide he's sure they're gonna fall out any second now.  
  
"I said," the dark haired man says very clearly like they're talking about what they should have for dinner and not like he's suggesting that they should _raise a child together_. "Let's have a baby."  
  
"Push me off this fucking building," Roy just mutters and that finally makes Dick turn his head to look at him, eyes hidden behind his black domino mask. Before his husband can speak, though, Roy raises his hand and focuses his gaze on the white lenses covering Dick's. "You, if I heard right, want to have a baby? _A baby_?"  
  
Dick just shrugs. "I do."  
  
Roy is starting to think that this is actually some twisted dream and he's gonna wake up any moment now in the hands of the Scarecrow.  
  
"Hold up," he says through a deep exhale. He frowns slightly, eyebrows drawn together. "Dick, we've talked about--"  
  
"No," Dick cuts him off. He doesn't raise his voice, doesn't look way, just stares at the man he's married to before ripping off his mask. "We haven't- Listing every bad thing about raising--"  
  
"That's talking about it."  
  
"Just be quiet, alright?" Dick sighs and this time Roy actually does as he says. It must be the first time he shuts up when someone tells him to. "Like I said, listing every bad thing about having a child and even making up fake reasons isn't talking about it, it's just… Running away from reality, Roy."  
  
Roy has to resist snorting, doesn't feel like hearing Dick scold him about running away when it's the only thing he does.  
  
The man in the black and blue suit looks away, eyes darting over the endless city before them. A world of opportunities. Maybe they should take one for once.  
  
"This might be our only chance. If we don't do it now, then when are we going to?" He says after several moments of deadly silence. His voice is quiet, like the wind, so unlike him. So quiet, as if it would break if he just speaks a little louder, if he looks at Roy. He figures it might be true.  
  
Roy sighs. He's exhausted. It's over four in the morning and they should be snuggling up in bed together back at their pent house and not having a fucking talk about babies on some dark roof top still wearing their fucking suits almost thirteen blocks away from said pent house.  
  
"I…" He takes a deep breath, still looking at Dick. "I want to. I've always wanted to. Have a baby, I mean. That's… Yeah. I want to." It's the truth. Roy has always wanted a kid of his own. He still thinks there could've been a better time for this talk, though, and he'll let Dick know that for years from now, he promises himself.  
  
Dick smiles, very small but genuine, and he reaches for Roy's hand. Roy lets him.  
  
"I can't believe we're gonna have a little Robin Hood running around," He says softly. Roy squeezes his hand and laughs. It's a quiet but honest laugh, like most things are with Dick nowadays. Have been for a while.  
  
"Did you just--"  
  
"Yeah, I did," Dick then whispers. He leans his head against his husband's shoulder and lets his eyes close. "Robin, as in who I used to be. Robin, as in you running around with arrows."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"You love me."  
  
"I do, unfortunately."  
  
Dick just playfully slaps his arm.  
  
_ _ _  
  
At only eight years old Dick had learned how without your parents, it's going to be hard to find the right path through life. Luckily for him, Bruce couldn't let him walk around the streets all alone. Dick's not sure what's going to happen to Lian if she were to lose her parents, but he's gonna do everything in his power to keep her away from that kind of pain.  
  
The three year old is currently running around in Bruce's backyard, her black hair flowing and her green eyes sparkling and her voice echoing through the well kept gardens. Dick adores his daughter, would never hesitate to give her the world served on a silver plate, would bring her the universe and a little bit more.  
  
Dick understands now what his mother meant when she had told him that he's the only star she'll ever need and want. He's grown up now, and Lian is his star.  
  
He picks at the grass, twirling it around his fingers and slowly pulling it from the ground. Jason is sitting next to him, the younger man looking remarkably well dressed for a Thursday evening. They're watching Tim chase Lian around the bushes and while the three year old is running like her life depends on it, Tim is walking behind her like he's out on a calm morning walk.  
  
The black haired man then catches her, picking her up and spinning her around and Lian is giggling and squealing and grabbing at his face. Dick smiles at the scene before him. He can see Jason smile, too. He doesn't comment on how long it's been since he last saw him really smile.  
  
Tim sneaks a glance at them, his eyes catching Jason's, his cheeks stained a gentle shade of crimson, his eyes lighting up like thunder in an open field. It's almost like time freezes, then he looks away and the time doubles its speed. And just like that, Dick _gets_ it. He sees it. The pieces are finally falling into place.  
  
He nudges Jason in the side with his elbow, and the smirk he gives the younger man could make anyone melt. Jason just raises an eyebrow questionly at him, silently asking him what he wants.  
  
"You're staring, Jay," he teases. The younger man tilts his head in confusion, parting his lips to ask Dick what he's talking about, before it hits him like a brick wall. Dick grins.  
  
Jason's eyes are growing wider and wider and as the seconds pass, his usually stone hard face is turning a bright cherry red. Dick will forever count this day as a victory.  
  
"Well?" He asks the leather jacket wearing man. He looks like he's gonna faint any moment now.  
  
" _Well_ what?" It takes Jason quite some time to find his ability to form words again.  
  
" _Well, does he know_?" Comes the answer. Dick looks away in the direction of Tim, where he's tickling the small girl who's still grabbing his face with her tiny, chubby hands.  
  
Jason falls quiet again as he follows Dick's gaze. He's watching Tim and Lian and it's so much easier to smile now that he has a reason to.  
  
"Yeah," he says at last. It feels okay to say it. It makes him warm from the inside, all the way down to his toes. "He does."  
  
Dick nods. He turns to look at his friend again, sky blue eyes meeting ocean blue eyes and the world feels so much lighter when they're both happy. It's easier when you don't have to be Nightwing or Red Hood or Bruce Wayne's sons. It's easier when you can be just Dick and Jason. Dick, who finally has the family he's always dreamed of. Jason, who's finally falling in love.  
  
It's easier when you don't have to pretend.  
  
Dick has pretended so much that he no longer knows the difference between the reality everyone else created for him and the reality he actually should be living.  
  
He's tired of pretending. It's just hard to stop when you don't know if you're pretending or not, anymore.  
  
It's hard to stop, when _pretend Dick_ has turned into the _real Dick_.  
  
He tries not to think about it too much. He can't fall asleep when he's thinking. He sleeps a lot, but wakes up feeling even more unrested than before.  
  
_How am I still tired when all I do is sleep_?  
  
Some nights he doesn't want to know the answer to that question. He figures it'd be too much to handle. He still asks himself _why_ , everytime time he wakes up, though. Can't help it. Can't stop. Doesn't want to, but wishes he did.  
  
One night, when it's after two and the laws are being broken in every corner of Gotham, Lian joins him in the livingroom.  
  
The little girl is sleepy, rubbing her eyes with her sleeves and hiding a yawn behind her teddy bear. It's Dick's old teddy bear. He wonders briefly just how many tears it contains by now. Doesn't wanna know the answer to that, either.  
  
"Daddy?" She asks. Her voice is tired and small and Dick never wants to let her go, wants her to stay five years old forever.  
  
"Yes, baby?" He says instead.  
  
"Why does dada disappear every night when the moon shines in through my curtains?" She looks at Dick with hopeful eyes, like he has the answer to every mystery in the world. He doesn't. Someday he'll disappoint her.  
  
He just sighs and pats his lap instead and Lian hugs her teddy bear to her chest as she walks over to Dick where he's sitting on the couch. She climbs onto the couch, then snuggles up in Dick's lap. A small part of him hopes she'll fall asleep before he can come up with an answer. But she won't. She's too much like Roy. Too curious. Too bright. Will burn out all at once instead of fading away like Dick. She's fire. She's a Harper. Dick is just ice. He's melting.  
  
He hugs her to his chest and doesn't ever want to let go. He'll always protect her, will always keep her safe, even though she won't need his help with that. She's too much like Roy. She's too much like Dick's mother. Mary would've been proud of her.  
  
Then someone tugs at his shirt. Green, wide eyes looking up at him and Dick swallows thickly because there are planets in her eyes. There are planets in Lian's eyes and Dick hopes with all his heart that she'll see them, too, one day. His daughter is carrying a whole galaxy in her crystal clear forest orbs and it hurts to know that the rest of the world is too cruel to see it, too cruel to care.  
  
"Dada's saving the world, sweetie," he tells her instead. It's easier that way. "Dada is saving the world to give it to you. It's okay."  
  
The last part is more for himself than for Lian.  
  
Lian just nods and leans her head against Dick's chest. She closes her eyes and tucks the teddy bear under her arm because it's okay, dada's just saving the world.  
  
"Daddy?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I want to be like dada someday," the little girl mumbles before once again drifting off to sleep. Her breathing turns slow and even. Dick holds her tighter.  
  
It shouldn't be so hard to hear his daughter say it. It shouldn't, but still it is and Dick wishes so, so badly that she won't become too much like Roy, although she already is.  
  
" _You'll be the death of me_ ," Roy had told him once.  
  
He thinks, almost shattering when he does, that Roy will become the death of him, too.  
  
_Never has destruction tasted so sweet_.  
  
_ _ _  
  
It's Lian's sixth birthday and Roy is standing on the balcony, sucking the nicotine out of his sixth cigarette. He hasn't seen Dick all day, wondering silently if he's visiting their daughter although they never have. Not together, at least. Roy doesn't think he'll be able to tell her goodbye without breaking down in the arms of his husband.  
  
His husband, that no longer wears his wedding band. They're on his nightstand, two silver rings that are almost as cold as ice, as Dick. One engagement, one marriage. Roy's ring burns hot against his finger and he's sure it'll leave a scar.  
  
But it's okay, his heart is just one big scar, anyway.  
  
He flicks the half smoked cigarette over the iron railing keeping him from falling down thirty floors as well. Maybe if he learned how to fly, then he could jump and his wings would take him anywhere, far away, to a place that isn't _here_.  
  
He only knows one person who can fly, though, and it's also the same person who fell the hardest and the fastest and the deepest.  
  
" _Alright, open your eyes_ ," Roy had told him once, when they were just boyfriends. They had been together for a year then. It was long ago now.  
  
But Dick had did as he told him to do and the dark haired man found himself outside a huge circus tent.  
  
Or more exactly, _his_ circus' tent.  
  
They had visited Dick's childhood home and never have Roy ever seen so many people hugging and smiling and laughing at the same time. It was almost pure. So happy. So dangerous.  
  
" _This is where I first learned how to fly_ ," Dick had told him when they were about to leave.  
  
He could hear the longing clear in his boyfriend's voice. Roy just looked away, at the tent, at the circus crew. " _This is where I first was truly free_."  
  
Roy had wanted to apologize, that he had taken Dick's freedom away. That he had trapped a beautiful bird in his heart. He remembers the look in Dick's eyes when they first had kissed, the one who screamed at him _never let me go_.  
  
But Dick had never been good at keeping promises, not even when they're bright and clear in his eyes.  
  
He had wanted to tell Dick that he's sorry. Sorry for letting him taste the freedom again but only for a day. He often hears stories about young kids running away from home to join the circus. But Dick, he had ran away from the circus instead. The circus was his home, his safe place. After his parents death, he had just kept running and running and running right into the arms of Roy but it wasn't _enough_. It _never_ would be.  
  
Dick is always running and Roy is always chasing and together they're ice and fire and winter and summer and something so bittersweet that Romeo and Juliet is happiness compared to them.  
  
He lights another cigarette.  
  
_ _ _  
  
It's raining. Of course it's raining. The rain falls heavy upon the masses and soaks their clothes and their hair and their hearts.  
  
Jason has his arm around Tim's waist and the younger boy leans into his side. The rain washes his tears away but he can't stop. He just chokes on sob after sob and Jason holds him tighter and doesn't even bother trying to hide his own tears, his own sorrow.  
  
Roy is standing a bit away, his red hair falling into his face, dripping wet. The funeral is long ago over and one by one people are quietly leaving. Though, not before patting Dick on the back with pity in their eyes and telling him that he'll be okay even though everyone knows he won't. Not after _this_.  
  
Time passes and eventually Tim and Jason says their goodbye's too. As they walk away, they walk right past Dick. They know he needs his space, knows he needs to be alone.  
  
But he's not alone cause Roy is still there and he's holding a blood red rose that is ruined by the burning rain almost drowning them. Neither of the two men move nor do they speak. They're just standing there, several feet apart, wishing so hopelessly that they could just wake up.  
  
But they can't. You can't wake up from reality.  
  
By Dick's feet, there's a new stone in the wet ground. It doesn't say anything. Just a name. Not a date. Just _her_ name.  
  
_Lian Grayson-Harper_.  
  
And Dick almost laughs himself sick cause of-fucking-course it's their daughter. _His_ daughter.  
  
It's easier, this thing called life, when you can pretend that you're okay.  
  
But Dick Grayson's life has never been easy. He learned this the hard way.  
  
So he's running instead. Running until the end of time. Running until his knees gives in.  
  
_It's only over if you want it to be_.

**Author's Note:**

> accidentally got into the roy/dick tag last night, wanted to write about the robin hood thing, ended up writing this angst crap instead
> 
> lmaooo don't get me wrong tho ok roy and dick still love each other
> 
> it's just hard to love sometimes my pal


End file.
